Rain
by Elfin Ragdoll
Summary: The Elric brothers reminisce about the meaning of home on the road to Ishbal. NOTE: There is a scene with Edward and Winry, but before all you fangirls get your hopes up they're still just friends because I'm not goin' down that road!
1. Winding Down

Author's Note: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of it's characters . . . but I wish I owned Ed. I'm not particularly sure on the spelling of that chick's name (Marda) so work with me here!

Chapter 1: Winding Down 

Edward coughed hoarsely, trying to clear the dust from his throat. It was raw enough from all the yelling he had done fighting with Al, then calling for him afterwards. Although thankful that they weren't walking to Ishbal, he was still suspicious of Al's helpful acquaintance. Marda had no reason to be generous, and their journeys had taught them well enough that she would want something in return. Most likely, something beyond equivalency. He had less and less reason to believe that damned principle anymore. Al and his own conscience had goaded Ed into playing the Good Samaritan nearly wherever they went, and for what?

Another lead, borrowed from those who had suffered under traces left by the Philosopher's Stone. Effort for info seemed equal enough as a notion, but the reality of it always forced them to remember what they had become. A walking reprimand for playing God.

Edward hacked again, growing more frustrated with each breath. Leaning against the right side of the buggy, he stretched his legs out towards Al, who had to huddle, pulling his knees to his chest to even fit on the motorcycle drawn cart. "Are you okay?" Alphonse's voice rang in his steel body. Having no lungs or throat to be irritated, he had forgotten the sensation.

"It's all this damned road dust. Like the desert's trying to eat the rest of the world." Ed could hear the airborne grains of sand scratching the inside of each cavity in the armor, blowing in and out through openings where human skin should be exposed.

"I know," Al sighed. "It makes me miss the river, even though I was just there." Ed smiled softly, eyes downcast in one of his few moments of unguarded nostalgia.

"It seems you're by that river wherever we go." Alphonse cocked his head to one side, confused but unwilling to prod. Ed continued without encouragement. "That's where I found you today, after we fought. And this time you actually had somewhere to go." His words were riddled with guilt. Turning his gaze towards the setting sun, Ed berated it for taking for so long. How he hated that vain star.

It was shining its hardest the day their lives took that first misguided turn. The moment they knew they were losing her. It should have rained then. It should have the day she died. It should have the day she was buried. It was always supposed to rain on those days so they wouldn't have to remember every detail the nine out of ten days that the sun would shine. Moreover, as further mockery, it would reflect off his substitute limbs if left uncovered. The sun would do its best to blind and deter him.

"Brother?" Edward was pulled from his lapse of hatred by Al's pleading tone.

"Sorry. Got caught up in the sunset." Wanting to forget his grudge, Ed chose to relive their recent skirmish instead. "I'd rather have you give me a beating every day than you be stuck like this."

Alphonse still took responsibility for what had transpired, knowing that all of his brother's heartfelt efforts to resurrect their mother would only lead to disaster. And he could not bring himself to be strong enough to stop him. Even through the concrete walls below the earth in that basement, he could feel the rain. And he knew that that place would become a tomb.

Ed wheezed again and followed it up with a discontent grumble and a curse under his breath. What would he give to feel Ed's slight and temporary pain? To know that he was still human? He suddenly wished that he had innards for the sand to tear its way through. Edward's hair lashed violently about his face and eyes. Al wondered how long his hair would be now if he still had his body. Ed's golden tresses reminded him of Winry.

He had told his brother that as children they had bickered over who would marry her and over that subject was when he had always fought his hardest. Were it an option, he would do the same now. Recollecting this to Ed reassured that his memories were real, and therefore, so was he. As for thinking on that at the present, it was his belief that two women belonged in every boy's life: a wife and a mother.

Having lost the latter, he wished that Winry were around more often to compensate. Not for marriage, simply companionship. The Elrics had little room for romance. Though few and far between, Al cherished the moments they did spend with their childhood friend. It disappointed him that Ed didn't seem to share the same appreciation. He didn't voice his thoughts often for fear of his elder brother's disapproval, but this needed setting straight.

"Brother," he began tentatively, "you miss Winry, don't you?" Ed turned his head sharply, as the strange question had immediately caught his attention. His brows were furrowed not in the usual anger, but the rare bewilderment.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" he nearly shouted, telling himself it was necessary to be heard over the roaring engine and wind. The conversation was going exactly the way that Al had feared. It was true what Winry had said, that Ed kept trying to shut everything out. This was all the reason he needed to summon the courage to face his brother. It was for Edward's own good.

"Just tell me you do." Al refused to back down. It was going to be a long trip, and this was the best thing he could think of to pass the time. Ed realized this, and his mind frantically sought a way to change the subject.

_Wait a minute,_ he mused. _Why should I be afraid of a question?_ Ed replied quickly, hoping to show control of the conversation.

"What does it mean to you whether I miss her or not?" He smirked, sure of his advantage over Al's weak composure. Expecting no response at all, he was taken aback by Al's swift answer.

"Because she deserves it." The words had obviously stung. Ed's honey colored eyes glossed over, lips barely parted, and uneven shoulders fell noticeably. Drawing his knees up to his chin, he turned his back to his brother and only constant companion. Edward let a small whimper escape his throat, knowing it couldn't be heard over Marda's powerful motorcycle.

Careful not to let Al see, he fished out his pocket watch and slowly opened it. The words were still there. He thought himself foolish for thinking that they would not be. Still he remembered how difficult it had been to inscribe them, his automail fingers continually slipping from the knife handle. It had been hard enough relearning how to write and use eating utensils. But being able to see it there now somehow made it worth the frustration and self-disgust. All Al's talk of Winry had directed his thoughts most unwillingly to the day she had discovered his little secret.

Of course he'd been furious that Winry had pried it open after her earlier attempts had been thwarted. But at the same time it was an unexpected relief. Even though unplanned he found himself with a confidant. and the weight of being the sole bearer of such a secret was, to some extent, lifted. If it could be helped, Al would never know. He had enough to suffer through due to his brother's pride and first desperate act of madness. Winry knew now whether either of them liked it or not. And strangely enough, that bothered him less now than it ever did.

As he thought on this he noticed that his brother wasn't pressing the issue. Apparently he had said all he was going to say, having warranted the reaction he did. Edward's silence.


	2. Counterclockwise

Author's Note: Ditto.

Chapter 2: Counterclockwise

Alphonse felt a slight twinge of remorse not because he had left his brother speechless through a wayward sense of blame, but because he felt himself justified. Everyone who knew Ed was aware that it was good for his health to be humbled every once in a while. Even though Al understood this better than anyone, he saw his own admittance of it to be self-righteous. The sight of Ed's crumpled figure facing the buggy's corner confirmed that he would reveal some uplifting revelation at journey's end, that being the end result of all his sulking session to date.

But until then, Al saw the uncomfortable silence as some subtle form of punishment. To sum it all up, he felt bad for not feeling bad. Al knew that this didn't really make sense to him nor would it to anyone else. Which brought him back to the knowledge that without a body, all you have left is your thoughts?

Edward's own were consuming him at the moment. Of all the times to reminisce, to feel more ashamed than ever, why did it have to be on the eve of such a monumentous battle? They weren't just going to stop Scar. They were going to prevent everything from being in vain. Every obstacle was going to present itself at this crossroads.

And here he sat wallowing in self-pity. Ed could sense that he was slipping from his conviction, dangerously close to failing his brother again. As if to restore his faith, Ed removed his left glove and traced fingers of flesh and blood across the inscription. He pressed into the indentation slightly, perhaps to subconsciously draw strength from the oath he had sworn.

'_Don't forget. 3 Oct 10'_

The night that Winry had laid eyes upon them was only the second time Ed had. Struggling not to remember, Ed failed to notice that he had succumbed to fatigue and drifted into a troubled slumber. Sleep was the least of his worries, so it was perpetually pushed to the back of his mind. For that reason, he had difficulties differentiating between dreams and reality, especially if the dreams contained memories.

'_Don't forget'_

Knowing that Winry had seen the hastily scrawled words made it nearly impossible to forget her either. She would be wondering on their meaning for a long time, Ed was sure. This was why in the haze of dreams he was immediately drawn to her and that night. As if beckoning his homecoming to that familiar time and place, the first image to arise was that of the wavering light that Winry flashed from her balcony, begging the boys' return.

Edward knew that Al would have smiled if he could, and probably cried. He often envied his little brother's simplicity. The memory played out as if recorded on film, and Ed could nearly experience all that his senses had taken in that evening. The tastes of Pinako's cooking, the dominating scents of oil and mechanic's grease that wafted through the house, embers flaunting their dance in the fireplace, and Major Armstrong's tireless tales of his illustrious family history.

That cue had sent Ed to bed. The others were still polishing off dessert as they endured the Major's stories, giving Ed ample time to rebraid his hair. Regaining the use of all ten fingers after so many days called for a meticulous task of dexterity. It was the little things that kept Ed grounded and accepting of his surrogate parts. He sat cross-legged on the bed and pulled the cloth tie from his hair, threading his fingers through the tangles and knots. As a young man, he often chided himself for putting much thought into such a feminine thing.

But never bothering to cut his locks required a degree of maintenance. Every time he did it, he grew angry with his father. There were no blondes on his mother's side, meaning it was just more evidence of whose blood ran through his veins. Ed rewound the flaxen ropes in angry little tugs and ground his teeth until the sound filled his head.

For this reason, he failed to hear Winry as she stole into the dark room, visible only by moonlight spilling in through the windows. She stifled a giggle towards Ed's plight and stepped smoothly while approaching him from behind. Gently clasping Ed's busy hands, Winry felt him jolt under the unwelcome touch and quickly jerk them away. She wasn't surprised at the reaction, having invaded a private moment. Winry circled around to the other side of the bed and casually plopped down beside her friend.

She smiled brightly, widening a smudge of grease on her cheek. Still clad in the bottom half of her pink coveralls and a tube top she shivered slightly against the night chill. Although down to his boxers, Ed didn't appear affected in the least and seemed to be focusing all of his energy towards a scowl. Finally, Winry's cheery disposition fractured.

"You know your face won't break if you smile." Ed grinned smugly, obviously enjoying her aggravation.

"And yours won't if you keep quiet for a few minutes," he retorted. Winry cracked a smirk just as devilish as his own.

"At least I haven't got some kinda rat living in my head." Ed was promptly aware of the unruly mane resting on his bare neck.

"Yeah, I _was _in the middle of something," he spat, inadvertently balling his fists. Winry rolled her eyes apathetically at the comment, crawling across the bed and propping up on her knees behind Ed. "I didn't ask for any help." he objected, but sat still nonetheless. As she pulled a small brush from one of many cargo pockets, Winry began to speak in a soft, steady tone.

"I won't tell anyone about the watch. I promise. Just…" she trailed off, hands going limp with Ed's hair entwined around them. "Just promise _me _something." Ed sat rigid against the silence, awaiting her next words. Sensing her hesitation, he prodded gently.

"Yeah?" He strived to sound nonchalant, but his nervousness was clear. Winry delicately but hurriedly finished plaiting Ed's tresses, still somewhat damp form his post sparring shower that afternoon.

"That you'll take care of yourself. Al wound up the way he did protecting you. And I don't know what it is you don't want to forget but…" she choked on her next words, "but don't forget us either." She had placed her hands upon Ed's shoulders, bracing against the sobs that now wracked her body. Realizing her actions, Winry slowly began to lift her hands as she turned away. There was suddenly a cold, needy pressure holding her right wrist. Winry's body careened backwards, feet reflexively shuffling to steady her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Ed had reached his right arm behind himself to grab her before she could escape, though still facing away.

Edward was even now trying to grasp why he had done it. Her absence would have been a welcome relief, and yet something felt…unfinished. He had always thought her the overly sensitive kind, and now all that he had ignored his whole life was beginning to make sense. Ed refused to look her in the face, knowing it would only cause them both more distress. That was why he'd made sure to catch Winry with his right arm. The risk of his skin purposely touching hers was too much. It would have…complicated things. Bad enough that Ed needed her company at all.

They had always been close. Growing up together, how could they not be? Lately she'd been demanding more than he could give, as if trying to make up for the years spent apart all at once. A skewed form of equivalent exchange that brought them to this moment.

These thoughts running through Ed's mind had seemingly frozen time, entrapping them both. Winry was first to return to the present. Collapsing beside and somewhat behind Ed, she snaked both her arms up under his own, hands resting cautiously upon his bare chest. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck, restricting her tears to sporadic gasps. Ed had released her wrist, thinking his unasked possession of it the nature of a captor. Instead, he slowly laced lifeless fingers through those of a natural human being.

But he knew that this was not enough. And was surprised that the words did not prick him as Winry's had. "Winry," he began, so low he barely heard himself. "I know what you're asking isn't too much. I'm just afraid that giving in to my limitations would make me hold back more, and Al deserves all I have for dragging him through hell with me. If that means putting myself in danger, then that's the way it has to be." His voice had picked up a bit. No, this was nothing he couldn't handle. "I've quit worrying about getting my body back because at least I can function and still enjoy a semi normal life. But no one asks for what I did to him. There's nothing natural about it. He doesn't even feel like a person sometimes. And I-" he cut himself off, fretfully trying to decided whether the truth should be voiced. Right or not, he continued knowing that his next words could never be taken back. "I was too full of myself to think anything could happen to me, let alone both of us. I pushed it because _I _wanted her back. And I was too selfish and stupid to admit that Al was right. Nothing good would come of it."

Winry had curled her fingers tightly around his as she listened, and her tears had ceased. Lying against him allowed her to feel his muscles suddenly tense for a moment as he obviously forced the last few words. They abruptly relaxed and his form appeared to shrink in agony. Shock overcame Winry when Ed ripped his hand from hers, covering his face so it could not be seen contorted in miserable pain. His body did not tremble because he willed it not to. The mechanisms fused to it were not as under his control as he'd thought. Unbeknownst to him, Winry could detect the subtle rattling in her own work.

What Ed did notice was her movement to his left side as she gingerly took his hand, squeezing in the most comforting way. That it was enough for him to return the action astounded the two. What first came to Edward's mind was the puzzled relief that her touch did not burn, her delicate fingers did not sear his own, the remaining five that could fear such pain. He was gracious for the messages that they sent: the warm folds of flesh where Winry's hands creased, several out of place calluses and burn scars indigenous to any mechanic, slight perspiration because a piece of her body enveloped his own.

Knowing these things, knowing her in this way soothed him enough to take the next step. Unready to open his eyes, Ed groped for her in the dark until managing an awkward embrace. This did not change him being self-conscious of his height. He hoped that Winry wouldn't notice how his right leg pushed off from the floor and raised his body to just level with her own.

She did, and was merciful. She would not let on her knowledge of the act. What really caught her attention were Ed's unplanned words. He breathed them into Winry's ear to cement the unspoken. That they were never to be repeated.

"As for forgetting you, Winry?" Her heart leapt dangerously into her throat. She feared she would suffocate if she attempted to speak. "Aren't I enough of a bastard already?"

She hadn't expected him to be direct. After all, everything about the Elric brothers was as backwards as possible.


	3. Turn Back the Hands

Chapter 3: Turn Back the Hands

Al was growing more suspicious by the minute. That Ed had slipped out to escape the Major meant little--most people tried when he started spouting family facts that no one really cared to hear. Although Al did admire him somewhat. Many people nowadays actually put effort towards being ashamed of their lineage. Hearing Armstrong gush his pride with such passion reaffirmed Al's faith in his own family, tiny as it was.

He was also overjoyed to be treated like a real child again. Being issued warnings and limitations allowed him to relax. A grownup was taking care of things. But there was plenty of time for that. Now he needed to find his brother. Who knew what trouble he'd be getting into?

Ed couldn't even let himself rest long enough to enjoy being home. Al had been first to realize that. They did have a home to return to. He wasn't sure if Ed didn't notice or just didn't care. But Al had made up his mind. He would make his brother see.

Putting manners first, he politely excused himself and lumbered away as quietly as his clanking shell would allow. No doubt, Edward was well into a project of self-destruction, and Al would have to intervene as usual. He began to search outside, as Ed was the distant type. Calling softly at first, Al crept around the edges of the house until he came to the back door. It led into the workshop where the Rockbells constructed their automail. Considering the reason for their visit, it was a good place to look. Al ascended the three steps in two of his own, and was careful not to let his frame graze the doorway.

In the semi dark, the shapes of all sorts of tools and scrap metal could be made out. But Al's gaze was immediately drawn to a tightly secured door well away from all the spare parts and welding masks. It was made to appear a simple door, like any other in the house, the padlock small and unthreatening.

This didn't fool Al. The ominous purpose of the space flooded his mind with the first memories of his current form. Edward's screams did not end the night of their greatest mistake. They began anew the next day when he underwent the surgical portion of the automail procedure. He had later had to go to great length to make his younger brother understand that his wretched shrieks had been, horrifically and ironically, necessary.

He was required to be completely awake and under no anesthetic influence to ensure that his nerve endings were properly attached to his new limbs. Otherwise, he might have been unable to control them, or his nerves permanently damaged.

And though Al had been warned beforehand of what he might hear, he couldn't bring himself to be anywhere but just outside the door. It was unthinkable to turn his back on his brother now. Of course this knowledge didn't stop him from pounding on the barrier after the first thirty seconds of pitiful howling.

Alphonse shook himself from the memory, mentally chiding his boyish defenselessness. That first couple of weeks of their newly altered lives were always stalking the borders of his mind, and spare time had to be devoted to holding them back.

For now he had a worthy distraction. Seeing as how Ed wasn't in either of his most likely hideouts, Al began to search the interior of the Rockbell home. He had left off sneaking around. No one would think twice of him looking for his brother around the house.

First stop was the kitchen. Eating was one of Ed's favorite pastimes, for the off chance that he would stumble across some miracle growth inducing herb or vitamin. The Major was helping Pinako with the dishes, and had been busying himself with chivalrous chores since they had arrived. The pair looked up from their work when Al entered the room.

"Something troubling you, young Elric?" Armstrong's gruff voice had caught Al off guard, causing him to twitch and produce a sheepish clinking. It took himself a moment to answer.

"Not really." He was a bit unnerved by his fib, but persuaded himself it was harmless. "Just looking for Brother." Pinako grinned in a very knowing way, and offered a hint.

"Don't know where he slipped off to, but Winry left after you did to check for herself. I think she started with the guest bedroom upstairs." She then turned back to the sink, satisfied with the advice she'd given.

"Thanks Auntie." Al replied affectionately. Pinako smiled herself. The few days those boys were spending here more than made up for the fact that they hadn't been in contact for over three years. This was something that alchemy couldn't put a price on.

Meanwhile Al was carefully climbing the stairs, trying to string together which words he would use to get his brother's attention, that being a hard enough feat in itself. Convincing him of anything was a battle all its own. Al seldom won.

He stopped outside the guest door, preparing for a heated debate. At last he thought he had an opening argument, but stopped short of entering after hearing slight whimpers from inside. Straining to decipher the sounds, Al wasn't ready for the first clear words.

"…what automail's for. But no one asks for what I did to him. There's nothing natural about it. He doesn't even feel like a person sometimes. And I--" He had stopped. Al had frozen his body to preserve the silence, but didn't know how much longer it would hold. He wanted to run, to crash through the walls out into the innocent night. Ed had practically admitted his brother's defect. That he was unnatural, and barely a person.

But before Al could will himself to escape, Ed's continuing words had recaptured him.

"I was too full of myself to think anything could happen to me, let alone both of us. I pushed it because _I _wanted her back. I was too selfish and stupid to admit that Al was right. Nothing good would come of it."

Al had broken free of the spell just long enough to turn one leg to the stairs, ready to make a run for it. And reconsidered. Ed was bearing a part of himself to Winry that he never could to his own brother. Al understood. He would now carry the truth with him, buried like so many other things he wished were not.

Ed could not share this pain with him because he feared facing the one he'd already forced to share another kind with. He was ashamed. This was new to Alphonse. With the exception of their mistake, Ed had always been proud of his doings.

Perhaps it was how he kept himself going. Being the elder brother made him feel obligated to be a pillar of strength and security. If he took to heart others' opinions of his actions, doubt would have become their third traveling companion long ago. Shutting them out ensured that forward was the only direction he could go. Crusading for the goal that they were, nothing else was an option.

Before he could steal anymore of his brother's secrets, Al rose, now discouraged from debate of any kind, and started back towards the stairs. He left without being graced with words that would have stilled his mind in days to come, on the road to Ishbal.

"As for forgetting you, Winry? Aren't I enough of a bastard already?"


End file.
